Sapphic September: Prompts 4 - Flannel & Coffee Shop AU - Maryse Lightwood x Cleophas Graymark,
Maryse.
It had taken only a week for Cleophas to get the orthograph of the first name right. She was herself used to unusual names, but she’d always seemed to hear “Mary” or “Louise.”
Maryse, the woman so singularly named, was a tall, tight-lipped, but breathtakingly beautiful woman, that walked through the doors of the small coffee shop Cleophas owned every morning, around the same time. She usually wore business attire. She was married, too, if the wedding band Cleophas had noticed several times was any indication.
Cleophas had been working at the coffee shop for five years now. She woke up early to make pastries, or finish those that she had started the night before. She usually did the morning shift, and napped a part of the afternoon, letting her niece Clary take care of the shop for her.
She had never been married, her last girlfriend had been her fiancée, but they’d broken up before getting married. Cleophas now was almost glad they hadn’t gotten married before breaking up. The divorce would have been horrible.
Magdalena was… somewhere now. Cleophas didn’t care much anymore. She had her life, and she wasn’t that ready to go back to dating. Unless Maryse was interested.
It was a fall morning, when Cleo realized that, maybe, her chances with the other woman weren’t as slim as she thought.
Maryse looked more tired than usual, and she wasn’t wearing her usual black skirt and blazer with a white shirt. She’d been late too, off by several hours, during which Cleo, sleep-deprived and crushing on her mysterious customer, had worried a little.
“Hello,” Cleophas said with a bright smile, as she straightened the rolled-up sleeves of her flannel, “What can I get you today?”
Maryse looked at the blackboard advertising the different types of drinks. Her nails tapped on the counter, they were polished in a pale, demure pink color. Cleophas didn’t catch the shine of the woman’s wedding band.
“I’ll take a… latte. Tall.” she ordered. “And add an egg-sausage sandwich with that.”
“Bad morning?” Cleophas asked as her employee, a young woman called Maureen, started preparing the latte. She reached for the sandwich and packed it on a bag. “Are you eating here or taking it to go?”
“Here.” Maryse replied, and watched as the black woman put the bag on a tray. Cleo had always had this sweet, comforting smile that made Maryse’s day a little brighter, when she came to get a coffee.
The shop was relatively small, but somehow never entirely crowded, even when the steady stream of customers kept the two women behind the counter quite busy. The chairs were covered of leather, and the tables simply wooden. Soft acoustic folk music resounded pretty much constantly from the speakers.
Cleophas smiled when she put the coffee cup on the tray, a few minutes later. Maryse paid, took her tray and went to sit at a nearby table.
There was something a bit heavier in her step. As if something was bothering her. Cleophas worried, again. She had to focus back to her work though, as more customers pressed in.
Maryse blew gently on the surface of her latte, hoping that somehow, it would drastically change the temperature. She reached in the paper bag to take the sandwich and break a small part of it off.
She slowly chewed on that, as she looked over at the beautiful woman behind the counter. Cleo - the name written on her badge - had awakened in her feelings that she’d thought long gone.
Maryse had always been interested in women. She’d always been bisexual, but she’d never had the pride of it. She came from a conservative, firmly homophobic community. It had always been the same way. Marry a man and have children. Do not act on those impulses, on the things you desire.
She’d married a man. Robert Lightwood, a straight, conservative man like the one she’d always been supposed to marry. Her family had been delighted. Less so, when she’d insisted she kept her career instead of being a full-town homemaker and children-bearer. It had worked out, somehow, even if Robert had kept on the derogatory comments about the house, her appearance, her cooking and baking skills, and how it would all be so much better if she focused on them.
She’d had three beautiful children, two as dark-haired as she was, and one with lighter chestnut hair, just as Robert had had in the pictures from his college years, when they’d met - he’d been bald for long now.
Her eldest, Alexander, had revealed to be as straight as his mother - that is to say, not at all. Maryse could still hear the things Robert had said about his own son. Alec was still gay. And he had recently moved in with his boyfriend, a wonderful man.
Her second, Isabelle, was just as bisexual as her mother. She’d had secret girlfriends, and less secret boyfriends. She was strong and a trail-blazer, strong in a way Maryse wished she would have been when her parents had told her she needed to marry. Isabelle would never allow such things to be said to her.
Her last, Maxwell, was named after Maryse’s dearly departed brother. He was still young, but he already took after both his parents. Maryse wanted to raise him herself, keep him away from the vile things Robert spouted.
Maryse finished her sandwich. And finished her latte.
No customers were left, soon enough, and Cleophas looked back at Maryse. She had finished her coffee and Cleophas didn’t want her to leave, so she made another latte, and put the lid on it.
She walked to the table and set it down on the tray.
“Here you go. On the house.” She said softly, and Maryse looked up with wide, surprised eyes.
“I didn’t ask for this.”
“Yours were done. It looks like you could use a little pick-me-up.” Cleophas pointed out and Maryse sighed a little. She nodded.
“It’s been a hard few days.”
Cleophas wiped her hands on the black apron she was wearing. She hesitated a second, before asking. “Can I sit?”
Maryse accepted and looked at the woman as she sat in front of her. She was beautiful like this too. Full lips, and beautiful hair, in a ponytail. Kind eyes. She seemed to be someone Maryse could trust, and she was in dire need of those lately.
“I’m in a custody battle. My ex-husband and I recently divorced, and he wants custody of… our youngest son.”
The idea of not seeing her sweet Max anymore broke her heart and made tears rise in her eyes. She hadn’t cried as much in the last twenty-three years as she had in the last few days. Max didn’t deserve to spend his teenage years in a house with his bigot father and his new wife.
Robert had not said anything about marrying again, but she knew about his affairs. And she knew that whoever he was fucking, would probably want to get married to the fat full Lightwood bank account as soon as she could.
Cleophas looked at the other woman, a bit at loss for words. What was she supposed to say? It was horrible, what she was going through.
“I’m sorry. For… your marriage, and your son.”
“My marriage… Don’t be sorry for it. I don’t think I ever loved Robert. He was… a loud, bigoted man from a loud, bigoted family, and my family was just as loud and bigoted. It was a match made in Heaven, for them.”
“Then, I’m even more sorry. You didn’t have to go through this.”
Maryse smiled softly. “You’re right. I didn’t. And yet… fuck.” She shook her head. She hadn’t cursed as much in the last twenty-three years as she had in the last few days. It felt good. In a way.
“Tell me about your son.” Cleophas coaxed softly, eager to make her feel better.
Maryse smiled a little. “Max is 11. He’s smart, and brave, and stupid in that kid way. Do you have kids?” She asked.
“No. I do take care of my niece, Clary, a lot. Her parents went through a divorce, and she now considers my brother her father. So… my niece.”
Maryse chuckled at that. “Yes. Your niece.” She sipped on the coffee. It was good. Cleophas’ smile and conversation made it better.
They stayed in silence for a moment, until Maryse reached for Cleophas’ hand. “Thank you. For the conversation, and the latte. I’ve been feeling very… alone. Unfortunately, the people I believed where my friends actually were my husband’s.”
Cleo smiled. “It’s nothing. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”
Maryse raised an eyebrow, suddenly distracted by the blush on Cleo’s cheeks. “Really?”
“Let’s just say you’re my type of woman, Maryse.”
“Freshly divorced?”
Cleophas almost choked on air at that. “No, no, no, of course not.” She quickly corrected, and Maryse had a small laugh. “I meant… beautiful and strong.”
“I can’t remember the last time someone called me beautiful.”
“That’s a shame. You deserve to be told. Repeatedly. Every day.”
They were really flirting now. Maryse was a bit… embarrassed. She’d never flirted with a woman before. She hadn’t even really flirted with men either, only the boys in high school, when the Girl’s School and the Boy’s School’s choirs and orchestra got together.
She’d never had sex with a woman, or kissed one. There had only been Robert, a few months after she’d turned 18. She remembered they had been engaged for the entire time she’d been in business school. Maybe Cleophas could be her first.
Their conversation kept this softly awkward and adorable tone. It stayed light, and at the end of it, Maryse had Cleophas’ number, and a smile on her face that was more genuine than any of the ones in the last twenty-five years.
Soon enough, Cleophas started drawing cheesy little hearts in caramel on the foam of Maryse’s latte. Soon enough, Maryse got custody of Max. Soon enough, Maryse kissed cleophas over a latte, in the middle of service, on a day Cleophas was so exhausted she still couldn’t believe the kiss wasn’t a dream.
Remember when we were kids and our neighbor got that big German Shepherd? Brutus. I hated that damn dog. You were terrified of it; like it was a Shax demon. You refused to walk past that house; remember what I said to you? Yeah, you said to ‘have faith’. And when you did walk past it, what happened? He licked me. Have faith, big brother.
